


i would never leave your heart this broken

by LaynaVile



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Bones, M/M, Memory Loss, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaynaVile/pseuds/LaynaVile
Summary: Retrograde Amnesia.He knows what that means, he went to medical school, yet they're treating him like a child, like he cannot possibly understand what they're telling him. He may not remember the exact year or what happened to him, but he is not stupid. They do not need to walk on eggshells around him as if he's going to snap and go into a fit of rage--he's notangrythat he cannot remember, only that they are treating him poorly."There was a gentleman that was in the accident with you."They still haven't told him the specifics of the accident, and any time he asks they shush him and tell him,it'll come back to you, which he thinks is incredibly ridiculous. He can handle the truth of whatever happened."He's woken up and would like to see you. Our hope is that he can help jog your memories."He agrees to see this man, perhapshecan tell him what happened to them.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957300
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	i would never leave your heart this broken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumptober day 6 prompt - "Stop, Please." combined with the alt. prompt - memory loss.
> 
> \--
> 
> As always no beta so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> \--
> 
> Title from if I Were You by blackbear ft. Lauv
> 
> \--
> 
> Enjoy😌

His head throbs, the lights are _too_ bright--they make his eyes sting--he feels nauseous and his tongue is like sandpaper in his mouth. He hears a steady beeping and he's vaguely aware that he's in a hospital, but he doesn't know _why_ , doesn't know how he got there.

He presses the call button and waits.

"Hello, hun, how're you feeling?" She asks as she checks his vitals.

"W-why a-am I here?" He stutters, and his voice is quiet and rough.

"You were in an accident. Do you remember what happened?"

He shakes his head slightly--he shouldn't have, it makes his head hurt worse.

"Oh." She says softly, then louder, "The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you."

"C-can I have some water?" His words are slightly slurred and he struggles with them--they're almost _foreign_ on his tongue.

"Of course, hun, I'll be right back with some for you."

\--

_**Retrograde Amnesia.** _

He knows what that means, he went to medical school, yet they're treating him like a child, like he cannot possibly understand what they're telling him. He may not remember the exact year or what happened to him, but he is not stupid. They do not need to walk on eggshells around him as if he's going to snap and go into a fit of rage--he's not _angry_ that he cannot remember, only that they are treating him poorly.

"There was a gentleman that was in the accident with you."

They still haven't told him the specifics of the accident, and any time he asks they shush him and tell him, _it'll come back to you_ , which he thinks is incredibly ridiculous. He can handle the truth of whatever happened.

"He's woken up and would like to see you. Our hope is that he can help jog your memories."

He agrees to see this man, perhaps _he_ can tell him what happened to them.

\--

The first thing he notices when the man enters his hospital room is how breathtakingly beautiful he is, the bandage on his cheek and the bruises on his face and exposed arms do not detract from his good looks in the slightest, in truth they make him look more beautiful.

"Hannibal?" He speaks so softly--cautiously even. He sits in the chair next to Hannibal's bed.

He nods, "You know my name?" He asks, they had told him there was a man in the accident with him, but he had thought they meant someone else, not someone he knew, but that's it isn't it? He doesn't know this man, not now.

The expression that crosses the man's face makes Hannibal's stomach lurch--he feels _guilty_ that he does not recognize the man.

"Yes, I do. You don't," He sighs, "I mean, I'm Will, Will Graham." He holds his hand out for Hannibal to take. There is a brace on his wrist Hannibal hadn't noticed at first.

Hannibal himself has a cast on the opposite wrist--they've assured him that it's nothing serious, that it should not affect his skills as a surgeon. He takes Will's hand into his own and shakes, all the while his brain races trying to make connections and regain memories--the warmth and softness of Will's skin _feels_ so familiar, but he can't remember. He releases Will's hand reluctantly, "Can you tell me what happened? No one has told me thus far."

"They told me I shouldn't, that it might upset you." Will's hands are in his lap now, and Hannibal cannot help but watch as Will strokes and twirls a shining platinum wedding band on his finger.

Perhaps he can still get it out of Will, but for now he will let it go. "Are you married?" He asks.

Will goes still and rigid for a moment, "Uh, yes, I am."

"I'm sure your wife is worried about you."

Will shakes his head--the movement is so small Hannibal almost misses it. "My husband." He murmurs.

"You needn't worry, Will, I am not homophobic, if you were worried."

Will laughs, "I _know_ you're not, Hannibal, I wasn't worried you were."

"Your reaction seemed as if you were."

"No, I-I just miss him is all."

"You should be discharged soon, has he not visited you?"

Will is quiet for a long while--Hannibal worries he has somehow upset Will.

"He uh, he can't visit me."

Hannibal wants to ask why not, but doesn't wish to upset Will further. They sit in silence for a while, Will's gaze focused on his own lap, Hannibal's gaze is on Will, he cannot seem to look away.

"Are you feeling any better?" Will asks softly.

"My head constantly aches, but the nausea and dizziness has seemed to subside. How do you feel, Will?"

"Oh, uh, I'm fine. The stitches are itchy, but it's nothing I can't handle." He smiles--it practically melts Hannibal's heart, he looks so sweet, so vulnerable and loving.

"The itching indicates healing, you mustn't scratch at it, you wouldn't want to endure them being removed poorly and then replaced should you damage them."

"I know, ba-Hannibal, it's not my first time with stitches, thanks for the advice though."

Hannibal easily catches that Will _almost_ called him by a different name, ba, he had said, what could it have been?

They fall into a somewhat tense silence again. After a short while Will stands, "I'm going to go now, I'll uh, come back to see you again, if you want me to." His voice is thick--he appears to be on the verge of tears.

"Stop, please." Hannibal reaches out to grab Will's hand, to stop him from leaving. "I don't want you to leave just yet." He can see the tears in Will's eyes.

"I-I need to go now."

"Please, don't go."

Will sits, tears falling down his cheeks.

Hannibal resists the urge to reach out and wipe them away--he cannot remember Will and any attraction or fondness needs to be put aside, Will is married, end of discussion. "Apologies if I upset you. If you truly need to go, I won't stop you."

"No, no, I'm alright. If you want me to stay, I can stay." He sniffles as he speaks. "I-I want to stay."

Hannibal _tries_ to remember, but he can't force the memories to return. "Will?"

"What?"

"How do we know each other?"

"Oh, uh, w-we met through work."

Hannibal waits for Will to continue, but he does not. "That is not what I asked."

Will exhales harshly, "Yeah, yeah I know, I just.. we're _friends_ , Hannibal."

The way Will says the word friends _feels_ wrong. "Friends, hmm?"

"Y-yes."

"I get the impression that's not strictly true. Tell me, Will, were we more than that?"

"I can't. I was told I can't try to _force_ memories on you."

"That's all the confirmation I needed." He pauses, racking his brain for _something_ else. "Your husband hasn't come to see you because we were having an affair?" He asks.

"What? No."

"Then what, Will? What is the reason he cannot come see you? What has you crying and fiddling with your wedding band?" Hannibal can't help the anger that is building inside of him--he's angry that no one will tell him anything, angry that he's being treated like a child, but most of all he's angry at himself for seemingly upsetting Will.

"You, you're the reason I'm crying, you're my husband." Will sobs as he speaks, he practically jumps from the chair and runs from the room.

What? No, that can't be true. He hits the call button--trying to remain calm, his heart is racing and he feels nauseous again.

"You alright, hun? I know you had a visitor."

"Who is that man?"

"His name is Will."

"I know that. His last name?"

"I cannot give out patient information."

"I know damn well that you can tell me his name."

"He was admitted as Will Graham-Lecter. That's all I can say."

"He's my husband?"

"I can't,"

He interrupts before she can repeat the hospital standard answer. "Where are my personal effects?"

She crosses the room, opens a cabinet and pulls out a sealed clear plastic bag, even from across the room he can see the blood on his clothes, the fraying edges of the fabric from where they were cut apart with trauma shears. He doesn't care about the clothing, he needs to see if there is a matching ring to Will's in the bag. She hands him the bag and he immediately starts going through it, he finds his wallet but disregards it.

He dumps the bag onto the bed, but there is no ring.

"Was I wearing a ring when I was brought it? Where is it now?"

"I don't know, I wasn't there when you were brought it."

"Find someone who was, I need to know if I was wearing a ring and if so where it is."

She begins checking his vitals.

"I need to know, now."

"I'll see if I can find someone."

\--

_**We had to cut if off, your hand was swelling and we needed to get it off before it started to cut off circulation.** _

He'd asked what they had done with it, why it wasn't with his things, they'd told him that his husband had taken it.

"I need to see him again. I need you to get Will down here."

"I'm sorry, sir, he checked himself out after visiting with you."

"He left?"

"Against medical advisement, yes. But, if he is truly your husband, I'm sure he'll be back to see you."

Hannibal doesn't hold his breath, he'd upset Will, without realizing just how much.

\--

Three days pass and Will doesn't come, he doesn't call and Hannibal barely eats, barely sleeps, and on the third day his anger and sadness get the best of him.

He slams his hand against the wall over and over, cracking the cast open, and putting a hole in the drywall. His hand is a bloody, plaster dust covered mess when the nurse finds him.

They have to take him in for surgery--he'll never be able to operate again, he thinks, his hand is _ruined_ just like his heart. Even if he can't remember.

\--

Another week passes and Hannibal is going to be released, he still cannot remember anything, but he has no trouble forming new memories or taking care of himself. He knows where he lives, but he's not allowed to drive himself, they call an old _friend_ of his to pick him up--because Will isn't answering when they call the number he left.

Fredrick is as much of a pretentious asshole as Hannibal remembers, the entire drive from the hospital is spent with Fredrick trying to compare Hannibal's injuries to his own.

The house _looks_ empty when they pull up.

"Would you like me to help you inside?"

"No." Hannibal practically growls--he didn't want Fredrick there to begin with.

The first thing Hannibal notices upon entering is the stench of cheap whiskey.

He follows his nose and finds Will lying facedown on Hannibal's--no they're married--their bed. Empty whiskey bottles litter the floor. Will is clutching something in one hand and a half empty bottle in the other.

There is one small photo album spread out in front of Will--the picture that catches Hannibal's eye is of himself and Will, both in impeccable looking suits, standing side by side surrounded by flowers and _dogs_.

The photo opposite it is the two of them in the same suits, facing each other, Will's hand is in Hannibal's as he slides a ring onto his finger.

Hannibal's heart clenches--he wants to remember, but nothing comes to him.

"Will?" He speaks softly so as to not startle him.

He doesn't move, "Will?" He tries louder.

Still nothing, he touches Will's shoulder gently, "Will?" He speaks again.

His skin is warm, Hannibal can hear and see him breathing, but still he is afraid. "Will, please, I need you to wake up now." He takes the bottle from Will's hand and places it on the nightstand.

Hannibal rolls Will to the side, the acrid scent of vomit is apparent immediately. Will's skin is crusty with it, as is the blanket. "Will?"

His eyes flutter, but do not fully open. "Go away, you're not real." He slurs.

"Will, I need you to open your eyes, I am very much real."

He opens his eyes, they're bloodshot and glazed over, "No, you're not real, _my_ Hannibal's gone."

"No, mylimasis, I'm here." The words flow easily from his lips--he doesn't even think, but they _feel_ right.

Will begins to sob.

Hannibal does not care that Will and the bed are covered in vomit, he climbs onto it with Will, and pulls him into his arms. "I'm sorry I cannot remember."

Will trembles in Hannibal's embrace.

"I know you are important to me, I _felt_ it the moment you walked into my hospital room, I cannot remember it, but I know that I love you." He presses a kiss to Will's head--his hair is sweaty and dirty and Hannibal can practically smell the whiskey in his system being so close, but he doesn't mind it. "If you will let me, I want to try to remember, but even if I cannot, I want to make new memories, I want to learn to love you again."

"You don't have to learn, you already know. I'm sorry I left and didn't come back."

"No, you don't need to apologise, I understand how hurt you must've been."

"I shouldn't have just left you though. Were you okay?"

"I was looking for my ring, they told me my husband took it, do you have it?"

Will opens his hand, the shining, broken band lay in his palm. "I didn't want it to get lost." Will's words are not so slurred anymore--he seems to be sobering up at least a small bit.

"Thank you, mylimasis."

"I didn't answer any of the calls, I should've answered, did anything happen? You have a different cast on. And, and how did you get home?"

"I'm alright, Fredrick brought me home. As to the new cast, l had to have surgery."

"Wha' happened?" He slurs slightly again.

"I smashed my original cast. It's of no matter now. Let's get you cleaned up now."

"Gonna take care of me?"

"As long as you'll let me, mylimasis."

\--

Hannibal hopes more than anything that his memories return, but the new ones he's making with Will are just as good.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't leave the ending sad, I had to give some hope.
> 
> \--
> 
> Thinking about it now, I may expand upon this at some point but for now it's _complete_
> 
> \--
> 
> Wanna send me a prompt? Check the pinned post on my [Tumblr](https://laynavile.tumblr.com/) and send 'em in.


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